


And to think that you are mine alone

by englishghosts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Established Relationship, M/M, Porn with Feelings, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 09:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17805326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishghosts/pseuds/englishghosts
Summary: Their instructions are to wait for instructions, so they settle into a designated safehouse for the night. The safehouse is actually a small abandoned hotel in south Austria, and for the first time in a few months they have the comfort of soft beds and an actual roof over their heads.Steve and Bucky manage to have some alone time during the war.





	And to think that you are mine alone

**Author's Note:**

> A little late for Valentine's Day, but it's the thought that counts. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Title from the song "There is no greater love".

Their instructions are to wait for instructions, so they settle into a designated safehouse for the night. The safehouse is actually a small abandoned hotel in south Austria, and for the first time in a few months they have the comfort of soft beds and an actual roof over their heads.  
  
There is canned food in the pantry, still good and between Bucky and Falsworth, even if it doesn’t taste just like home, it’s better than the army rations they've been living on.   
  
Dugan promptly finds the wine cellar and takes a couple bottles. They pass them around, trade cigarettes. Steve doesn't smoke, and the wine has no effect on him, but he can still appreciate the taste, and the flush it brings to Bucky's cheeks.   
  
When it’s time to make arrangements for sleeping, Bucky claims the third room on the left, and stares pointedly at Steve until he takes the second. They take the first watch, and Bucky doesn't answer when Steve asks him what was the deal with the rooms, just smiles and tells him to wait, and takes off his boots.   
  
When Dugan and Morita come, two hours of small talk later, Bucky makes a show of yawning, dragging his feet up the stairs. Steve can see he's still as alert as ever, and he's pretty sure Morita can too, but Bucky still rubs at his eyes and locks his door with a loud click. The only other sound on the hallway is Falsworth's loud snoring.   
  
Resigned, Steve locks the door to his own bedroom, takes into stock what he hadn't before: a wooden double bed and wardrobe, beautifully carved. An armchair and a reading lamp by the window. The door to the bathroom, where Steve can see a bathtub and sink.   
  
There is also another door. The second Steve realizes where it leads, Bucky walks through it.   
  
"Hey," Steve says, feeling his face break into a smile matching the one on Bucky's.   
  
"We have to be really quiet," Bucky reminds him, before pulling Steve down for a kiss, a good, proper one like they can’t risk without a locked door.   
  
"Wanna take a bath?" Steve says, because they haven't had hot water in God knows how long, and they've never had a bathtub this big. Bucky _hmms_ appreciatively, already unbuttoning Steve's uniform.   
  
They can't fit spooning romantically like Steve had envisioned, but they sit on opposite sides of the bathtub, their legs tangled. He takes one of Bucky's feet and starts to rub it, and Bucky groans heavily and slides a little further into the water.   
  
"That's good, doll," he says, sighing. Steve wasn't even aware of how much he'd missed Bucky's pet names until his heart immediately warms with it.   
  
"The girls on the show sometimes asked me for foot rubs," he explains. "'Cause of the heels."   
  
"I bet they loved those big hands," Bucky smiles. "You sure you didn't take advantage?"   
  
To anyone else he might sound casual, but Steve knows the tone, the change in his voice when he used to ask Steve "are you sure the date wasn't good?", when he asks Steve about Peggy.   
  
"I'm sure," Steve says, setting Bucky's foot down and taking the other. "Besides, why would I want those girls when I could be here rubbing the blisters on your hairy feet?   
  
"Hmm, babe, I love it when you talk about my feet. Very... _romantic_ ." The end of the word trails off into a huge yawn.   
  
They have to change the water a couple times when it gets gritty. Bucky washes his hair with soap, carefully, and gives a wilting look at Steve's perfunctory scrubs. They find a sponge and share it, and it ends up being thrown at Steve's face and plopping to the floor when he not so accidentally tickles Bucky's ribs with his toes.   
  
Getting out of the tub takes a little bit of work, and an awful lot of splashing. Steve's fingers are pruny when he towels himself dry, and Bucky's skin has a healthy, warm flush. He looks really good. Steve can't help himself moving closer for a kiss, but Buck pulls away after a few seconds to yawn again, deep and shuddering.   
  
"Am I boring you, darling?" Steve asks, wrapping his arms around Bucky's neck and batting his eyelashes in his best Hollywood dame impression, which is admittedly not so good, but gets the idea across.   
  
"It's not fair you never get tired anymore," Bucky mumbles against Steve's neck. His five o'clock shadow tickles Steve's skin.   
  
"You should get some sleep," Steve says. He rubs the back of Bucky's neck, where there’s a little birthmark he likes to kiss when he spoons against Bucky’s back, and Bucky closes his eyes with a sigh and seems to consider it for a second, before he opens them again, resolute.   
  
"No, come here," he says. "Don't know when I'll have another chance to get my hands on you."   
  
His kisses are lazy but sure, getting firmer as he pushes Steve back against the bed. He climbs between his legs and covers his chest with bruises that will fade in a couple hours. Far from Steve to complain about his new body, but he does miss wearing Bucky's marks under his clothes.   
  
"This is no time or place for... ah... teasing, Buck," he manages to say, gritting his teeth not to moan too loud when Bucky bites his nipple.   
  
"So demanding," Bucky chuckles. He sits on his heels and runs his hands down Steve’s chest, teases the inside of his thighs.   
  
Patience has never been Steve's strong suit, and no one can blame him in a situation like this, not really. He grips Bucky's waist with his knees and flips them over, almost off the bed. Bucky starts an indignant protest, but acquiesces when Steve slides down his body.   
  
Steve doesn't waste any time: anything could happen. The memory of the time Jacques walked in when Bucky was about to reach for his fly and he had to spend an entire conversation about bombs pointedly trying to ignore his aching balls is still fresh on his mind. He doesn’t tease, just sucks Bucky's half hard cock into his mouth as deep as it will go. Bucky nearly bends in half when he does.   
  
"Jesus, Rogers, give a guy a warning, will you," he says, his voice breaking, but he smiles, runs his fingers through Steve’s hair and holds his hand there.   
  
Steve sucks Bucky to full hardness, and then a little more, just to get back at him for teasing before. The vaseline is in the pocket of Bucky's discarded pants, which Steve tries and fails to reach without getting up, but Bucky manages to pick up with his toes, wriggling them seductively under Steve's nose. They end up a mess of limbs, Bucky teasing wet fingers inside Steve, Steve reaching back to slick Bucky's cock.   
  
"I'm good, c'mon," Steve says, batting Bucky's hand away.   
  
"Pushy," Bucky laughs, as Steve straddles him. He lets out a noise like he's been punched as Steve slowly sinks onto him, clutches hard at Steve’s thighs to try to get him closer.   
  
It stings a little. Bucky's cock is thick and they haven't done this since...  August, maybe, a quick, rushed fuck on Steve's barracks, late at night and desperate to finish before they got caught. Other than that, they've been living off stolen kisses, off knuckles brushing together when walking, off it being cold enough to justify sleeping cuddled close. Steve takes his time now, takes Bucky in slowly, rolling his hips slowly until Bucky's cock is fully inside him.   
  
"Fuck, I missed this," he breathes, closing his eyes at the shudder that runs up his spine. His body clenches involuntarily, and Bucky closes his eyes with a moan. He settles both hands on Steve’s hips and pushes up a little, testing. The bed springs squeak a little if they move too much, so they fall into a slow, lazy rhythm.   
  
"You're too pretty," Bucky breathes, digging his fingers into Steve's hips, using his other hand to pinch one of Steve’s nipples. "I'm a fucking lucky bastard, sugar, look at you."   
  
Steve laughs a little, drunk on pleasure, on the sweetness on Bucky’s voice. He leans back, holds onto Bucky's thighs and plants his feet on the bed to put on a show. The change of angle makes both of them moan, but the bed creaks under his weight so he tries to move more carefully.   
  
“Jesus, Steve,” Bucky breathes. His eyes are wide, hungry. “Jesus, sweetheart.” He licks his thumb, presses it against the space his cock fits inside Steve, rubs at the tight skin, and God, Steve wouldn't even mind it if he pushed in. He's so, _so_ close.   
  
Bucky knows it, so he pushes up, fucks Steve as hard as he can without making too much noise. He takes Steve’s leaking cock in hand, and it doesn’t take long until Steve is coming. He loses his balance and falls forward on his knees, spilling all over Bucky's chest, trying to keep himself from being too loud. Bucky's cock slips out with a wet noise, and Bucky curses even as he continues to work Steve with his hand.   
  
"Sorry, sweetheart," Steve whispers, when he can catch his breath again. Bucky is letting him ride out his orgasm, but at the same time he's thrusting minutely, leaving wet smears against Steve's cheeks, trying to get enough friction to get off. Steve uncoordinatedly reaches back and pulls him back inside, rides him on shaky thighs until Bucky holds him in place and fucks him until he comes with a shuddering gasp.   
  
Steve lowers himself gingerly, but Bucky still lets out a small _oof_ when Steve lands on him. "You're not small enough to do this anymore, pal," he says, but makes no move to change their positions. He runs his fingers up Steve's spine instead, where he could once count the vertebrae, seeks his mouth for a lazy kiss.   
  
"I need to go to my own room," he says, a few minutes later, when Steve is about to doze off.

“We need another bath,” Steve laughs. He feels sticky all over, and the good kind of sore and he never wants to get up, if he can help it. Bucky mumbles something indistinct, uses a corner of the bedsheets to wipe at the come and vaseline.

He goes back to his room, eventually, Steve trailing after him until they meet at the threshold between their rooms, share one last, clinging kiss that reminds Steve of the time they took the Dorsett sisters to Romeo and Juliet. _Fuck it, stay here_ , Steve wants to say. He doesn’t say _I love you_ either, but he presses it into a kiss on Bucky’s jaw, on their chests close together.

Bucky finally closes the door between them, and Steve goes back to the bed, which seems huge and empty now. The rumpled sheets smell of soap and sex, and he burrows inside them, tries to keep the memory of Bucky’s body next to his until he falls asleep.


End file.
